I STILL don't own anything and...*sniff* I don't have anymore
pork monkies. ;_;
Washed Away Gem
Chapter 5
The trick to convincing and romancing
I haven't seen Helen...er...Helga for weeks. She transferred
out of our school and into another. Her parents always turned me away when
I came asking for her, saying she was in the shower or she was doing homework
or she was busy or she was out. Phoebe and I told the gang who Helen actually
was and they were quick to believe it saying that she had Helga's air without
actually having the personality. All I knew was that this transferring
in and out of schools must be a hassle on her credits, but from what I
heard she already had enough to graduate so I guess it's okay.
I really wish I knew where she was. I need to talk to her. Tell her who she is. Try to bring her back. I don't know where she got the idea that her parents threw her into a river. She may have twisted her memory. From what I saw, Helga and her parents never got along and it's highly possible she just turned it to seem like she was thrown. I can see how. Helga's dad always paid more attention to Olga and his beeper empire than he did to Helga, so I can see his back turned to her and everyone knew Helga's mom was a drunk, hiding her mixes in smoothies, so of course the woman in Helga's memory was blank and drunk looking.
Finally, I stopped going over to Helga's with a plan in mind. I'd seem like I gave up and when they least expect it, I'll wait for Helga to come out. I waited for a month before I went to Helga's to put my plan into action. I waited as her parents left for work. When Helga came down from her stoop to go to her car I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to my or rather Mr. Smith's Dodge Viper RT/10 convertible. I swear I think he steals these or something and puts on different license plates, but part of the deal was to not ask questions.
Anyway, Helga put up quite a fight, but we both matched each other in martial arts, but I was a little better since Grandma taught me most of everything except weaponry so I managed to get her into the car.
"Arnold, what the hell are you doing?" she growled. It was the first time I had heard her sound like Helga since I met her again for the first time (AN: I've always wanted to say that).
"We're going to talk and that's that," I said firmly, but gently.
"What's there to talk about?" she asked, annoyed, but talking in her normal tone.
"Plenty," I said. "First off, you got the wrong idea about me."
"I always get the wrong idea about you, Arnold," she said. "If you were anymore complicated I'd say you were a girl."
I couldn't help, but laugh. "A girl huh? So what's that make you?"
She looked at me blankly, then out the window. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"The lake," I said.
"What for?"
"I just like to be there when I need to think and I thought it'd be nice to share it with someone."
"Are we going to think or to talk?"
"Both I guess. I have a lot to say and you have a lot to think about."
"Okay, but if I get written up for ditching, I'm gonna kill you, football head," she mumbled.
I nearly ran into another car passing us. "What did you call me?"
"Nothing! Just pay attention to what you're doing or else you'll kill us both."
We were silent the rest of the way. I parked the car at the edge of the lake. We sat in silence for a while before she finally said, "So what do you have to say?"
"You're Helga," I blurted out. I hadn't meant to tell her like that, but it came out.
She looked at me like I had grown another head and a horn popped out of my forehead. "You're twisted, Arnold. I told you the stories were different."
"No, Helga, you're wrong. You're mind must've twisted the memory."
"Don't call me Helga. My name is Helen!"
"No, it's Helga. Helga G. Pataki!"
"No it...what's the 'G' stand for?"
"I don't know. You never told me."
"Damn it, Arnold, I'm not Helga! You're crazy!"
"No, I'm not. Just hear me out. If it makes you feel any better I'll call you Helen while I tell you this."
"Fine, but talk fast. You're creeping me out."
"Fair enough. You see, Helga's dad was always paid attention to her older sister, Olga, and his beeper emporium and never paid any attention for Helga, which would explain the man in your 'memory' having his back turned and coming off as uncaring." I waited for her to yell at me for comparing Helga's dad to the one in her memory, claiming they weren't the same, but I saw in her eyes a recognition of the names and attitude. With this, I was encouraged to continue, "Your mother seemed blank and drunk because Helga's mother, Miriam, was a drunk and something of a moron when she was so." Once again, she remained quiet, her eyes glimmering with confusion and recognition.
"You must've mixed them with your memory of falling into the water, as that you don't really know if they did push you in."
"You have no proof of any of this, Arnold," Helga finally said. "It could all be just a coincidence."
I laid out some things from the shrine. She gasped softly and tried to hide it with a cough and a, "This car's really dusty."
"It's brand new," I replied, sitting back. "Go ahead and take a look."
She hesitated and headed for the potato doll of me, looking at it gingerly and with the same confused expression she's had since we started. She set it down after a long moment and picked up some poetry books and read some of their texts. She knew it was her handwriting, I could see it in her eyes, but she said nothing. She then set them back down and moved her hand to the last item. The locket of me with the inscription inside.
"I found that along a river when I was out looking for you..." I murmured. She looked up at me, but then back down at it. She didn't open it. She recited the small inscription that was inside of it (AN: And I can't, for the life of me, remember what the inscription said) before she opened it and read the same poem, word of word. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked away. She didn't want me to see her cry.
I moved the items aside before I reached out to put my arms around her and pulled her into me. She held me tight and cried into my chest. I don't know how long we had been there, but when she finally calmed down I tilted her chin up so I could see the eyes that I've hated and loved for so long. "I'm sorry I didn't save you before, Helga..." I murmured. She laughed softly and shook her head, forgiving me before allowing me to kiss her again.
This was Helga. The taste, the warmth, the whispers, everything was pure Helga. We kissed in that car until we heard the bells of Seattle ringing, letting out the school kids. She rested her head on my shoulder as I drove us to my place, by her request, but I stopped quickly at a gas station.
I don't know how many times we moved with each other, bodies entwined tightly together, but I know it was an awful lot. We were quiet, so we didn't disturb the other residence, but the soft moans that came from her so that only I could hear, echoed loudly in my head. And I had a new love for my name now.
I really wish I knew where she was. I need to talk to her. Tell her who she is. Try to bring her back. I don't know where she got the idea that her parents threw her into a river. She may have twisted her memory. From what I saw, Helga and her parents never got along and it's highly possible she just turned it to seem like she was thrown. I can see how. Helga's dad always paid more attention to Olga and his beeper empire than he did to Helga, so I can see his back turned to her and everyone knew Helga's mom was a drunk, hiding her mixes in smoothies, so of course the woman in Helga's memory was blank and drunk looking.
Finally, I stopped going over to Helga's with a plan in mind. I'd seem like I gave up and when they least expect it, I'll wait for Helga to come out. I waited for a month before I went to Helga's to put my plan into action. I waited as her parents left for work. When Helga came down from her stoop to go to her car I grabbed her wrist and pulled her to my or rather Mr. Smith's Dodge Viper RT/10 convertible. I swear I think he steals these or something and puts on different license plates, but part of the deal was to not ask questions.
Anyway, Helga put up quite a fight, but we both matched each other in martial arts, but I was a little better since Grandma taught me most of everything except weaponry so I managed to get her into the car.
"Arnold, what the hell are you doing?" she growled. It was the first time I had heard her sound like Helga since I met her again for the first time (AN: I've always wanted to say that).
"We're going to talk and that's that," I said firmly, but gently.
"What's there to talk about?" she asked, annoyed, but talking in her normal tone.
"Plenty," I said. "First off, you got the wrong idea about me."
"I always get the wrong idea about you, Arnold," she said. "If you were anymore complicated I'd say you were a girl."
I couldn't help, but laugh. "A girl huh? So what's that make you?"
She looked at me blankly, then out the window. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"The lake," I said.
"What for?"
"I just like to be there when I need to think and I thought it'd be nice to share it with someone."
"Are we going to think or to talk?"
"Both I guess. I have a lot to say and you have a lot to think about."
"Okay, but if I get written up for ditching, I'm gonna kill you, football head," she mumbled.
I nearly ran into another car passing us. "What did you call me?"
"Nothing! Just pay attention to what you're doing or else you'll kill us both."
We were silent the rest of the way. I parked the car at the edge of the lake. We sat in silence for a while before she finally said, "So what do you have to say?"
"You're Helga," I blurted out. I hadn't meant to tell her like that, but it came out.
She looked at me like I had grown another head and a horn popped out of my forehead. "You're twisted, Arnold. I told you the stories were different."
"No, Helga, you're wrong. You're mind must've twisted the memory."
"Don't call me Helga. My name is Helen!"
"No, it's Helga. Helga G. Pataki!"
"No it...what's the 'G' stand for?"
"I don't know. You never told me."
"Damn it, Arnold, I'm not Helga! You're crazy!"
"No, I'm not. Just hear me out. If it makes you feel any better I'll call you Helen while I tell you this."
"Fine, but talk fast. You're creeping me out."
"Fair enough. You see, Helga's dad was always paid attention to her older sister, Olga, and his beeper emporium and never paid any attention for Helga, which would explain the man in your 'memory' having his back turned and coming off as uncaring." I waited for her to yell at me for comparing Helga's dad to the one in her memory, claiming they weren't the same, but I saw in her eyes a recognition of the names and attitude. With this, I was encouraged to continue, "Your mother seemed blank and drunk because Helga's mother, Miriam, was a drunk and something of a moron when she was so." Once again, she remained quiet, her eyes glimmering with confusion and recognition.
"You must've mixed them with your memory of falling into the water, as that you don't really know if they did push you in."
"You have no proof of any of this, Arnold," Helga finally said. "It could all be just a coincidence."
I laid out some things from the shrine. She gasped softly and tried to hide it with a cough and a, "This car's really dusty."
"It's brand new," I replied, sitting back. "Go ahead and take a look."
She hesitated and headed for the potato doll of me, looking at it gingerly and with the same confused expression she's had since we started. She set it down after a long moment and picked up some poetry books and read some of their texts. She knew it was her handwriting, I could see it in her eyes, but she said nothing. She then set them back down and moved her hand to the last item. The locket of me with the inscription inside.
"I found that along a river when I was out looking for you..." I murmured. She looked up at me, but then back down at it. She didn't open it. She recited the small inscription that was inside of it (AN: And I can't, for the life of me, remember what the inscription said) before she opened it and read the same poem, word of word. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked away. She didn't want me to see her cry.
I moved the items aside before I reached out to put my arms around her and pulled her into me. She held me tight and cried into my chest. I don't know how long we had been there, but when she finally calmed down I tilted her chin up so I could see the eyes that I've hated and loved for so long. "I'm sorry I didn't save you before, Helga..." I murmured. She laughed softly and shook her head, forgiving me before allowing me to kiss her again.
This was Helga. The taste, the warmth, the whispers, everything was pure Helga. We kissed in that car until we heard the bells of Seattle ringing, letting out the school kids. She rested her head on my shoulder as I drove us to my place, by her request, but I stopped quickly at a gas station.
I don't know how many times we moved with each other, bodies entwined tightly together, but I know it was an awful lot. We were quiet, so we didn't disturb the other residence, but the soft moans that came from her so that only I could hear, echoed loudly in my head. And I had a new love for my name now.
